Love Letters To My Unborn Child II
by obsessivelyfanaticgw09
Summary: Im telling you right now that mine wont be the same as hers These pages are going for me to be more of letting the things in my mind escape then telling you how much I love you and cant wait for you Cause I can honestly tell you that its not true Part 5/5
1. June 3rd

**This is the last part of a five part story, if you didn't know that, you should probably go my Profile and start with part one XD**

**Now we've gone full circle and here we are again…please enjoy this last part!**

**Back to Love Letters To My Unborn Child! Ella version!**

* * *

><p><strong>June 3<strong>**rd**

Sometimes around noon…

Mum found the letters I had been scrawling to her last month and the month before that. Without my knowledge or permission she read them and proceeded to tell me that I should keep writing. She said it sure helped her through a lot and it could help me through a lot also.

I bluntly told her that I wasn't about to write anymore to her.

She didn't take much offence to it, I suppose. I think she thought it was alright because we had been talking aloud more. And talking aloud is sometimes better then writing it all down.

So she told me to write to you.

She said she had something to show me.

She sent Toby on a little trip to the market and reached under her bed and pulled out that box. The one I stole this notebook from. The one with that other notebook with the big, cursive letters engraved on the cover. The one I've wanted to read since I found it two months ago.

_**Love Letters to my Unborn Child. **_

Neither of us had to say it - it was automatically implied…these letters were all meant for _her…_not me. I didn't mind.

Mum read over entry after entry…covering nine months. Most enthusiastic and beautiful (one she wouldn't let me read…said it was about her husband dying…and it was all too hard for her to read over) and the last few heart breaking, even bringing a tear to my eye.

She said to me, "Ella…this baby will be in your arms someday…you've got to believe that. Start loving it now…perhaps it'll appreciate it later…" and she simply walked out of the room and left me with this pen and notebook…so here I am, writing to you.

Mum says her letters were filled to the brim with love and youthful enthusiasm.

I'm telling you right now, that mine won't be the same.

These pages are going for me to be more of…letting the things in my mind escape…then telling you how much I love you and can't wait for you.

Cause I can honestly tell you that…it's not true.

So…I'll begin now.

A lot of…different things have happened in the last month.

I'm six months along now, and sure showing a bit. I won't hurt your little feelings and tell anyone how much I hate the lump growing on me, but I do. It continues to be that bloody constant reminder…

By her six month entry…Mum was still hiding her with her corset, probably one of the reasons why she hasn't let me wear one for over two months now - says, 'Just to be safe'. Mum was just telling her husband…Mum was protective of her baby…Mum already knew she was a girl.

Motherly instinct, she explained, starts to kick in. She just knew…there was no doubt in her mind. Me? I think about all the time. During the day while I gaze out the window at the sunlight I'm not allowed to feel. During the night as I drift off to sleep. During the long days I spend in here…reading book after book after book…and I just don't know. I can't tell what you are.

It's like there's a wall! I'm amazed at what a connection mum had with her baby! And I have nothing!

Well…six months. And here's the thing - you might think it's cruel and wrong…I suppose. Well I did at first too. But Mum suggested it and it's the best thing I can think of to keep things right in this household. To keep Mum's business flourishing, to keep the neighborhood from gossiping, to keep Mr. Todd from knowing.

Mum locks me in her room all day. I'm the hidden child, the mystery that the town sees through the glass windows at night from afar, but never up close. That's just it too. I'm allowed out of the room in the morning before the shop opens up, and at night, after the shop closes. I'm not allowed to go outside or upstairs.

I'm a secret.

And I like it.

Mum says "Perhaps it's just me channeling Albert here, but we can't have anyone knowing…" She says that if anyone sees my pregnant, gossip will be all over the place, and if we're unfortunate enough, they'll all be true.

So I'm a secret.

Mum says if Mr. T finds out, he'll send me out for sure. Another mouth to feed? He wouldn't have it. So I hide from him in a room he wouldn't dare ever go - her bedroom.

I'm allowed to see mum, and I'm allowed to see Toby.

Either or both of them bring me food and water all day and a book to read. I've gotten through so many books already I've lost count. Mum says I should read them aloud to you. I tried it. I felt like a bloody fool.

Whenever Mum comes in after the shop is closed, we'll talk about something or another…to be truthful it's usually about you. I told Mum I'm scared. She said that I should relax - that she knew of plenty of girls my age who have given birth to happy, healthy babies. I don't think she quite gets the extent of my fear…

Whenever Toby brings me something, and it's a slow day, he'll sit down with me to talk. It's nice to know that…to know that I'm someone worth talking to. I don't feel comfortable being in the room alone with him, honestly. But I talked to Mum about it and she said that every time I feel alone, I should think of you and know that you're there. I told her that didn't help at all. So she simply made Toby promise that he would sit in the stool in the far corner of the room while I remained on my cot.

There's a knock at my door…I'll finish writing later…

* * *

><p><strong><em>Well after dark<em>**

Toby delivered my supper tonight.

It was the first day I let him come closer.

He had come in, and placed my try on the dressier on the far side of the room like usual. And he smiled and was about to leave without saying a word when I muttered, "Rest for a moment…you work too hard…"

Honestly, I utterly needed someone to talk to. I was sick and tired of being so mute all day.

I looked up at the cracking ceiling as I lay down in the cot and he sat down. We sat in the sweet silence for a few moments.

Luckily, he was the one to strike up the beginning of the conversation, "Ella? Wot happened to your real mum?"

Wasn't as random as a question as it seemed. Just yesterday Mum told him everything about me…from the day I was stolen, till now. Not in great detail most of it, but…enough.

Toby was a few years younger than me, but I wasn't about to treat him like a child. He certainly didn't act like one. Mature he is. More mature then most boys I've met in my life.

I strained to see him all the way across the bedroom as I sat up on my cot and struggled to hug my knees to my chest. I didn't mind telling him. In fact, I was hungry to talk to anybody about anything.

"Not entirely certain…" I mumbled.

"Wot?"

I smiled…and even though my whole body was shouting not to let him any closer, I motioned for him to come and sit on Mum's bed, only a few feet from mine.

I didn't feel as uncomfortable with Toby sitting there as I thought I would.

"I don't really know," I said again. "I heard rumors while I lived on the streets, that's all…" He nodded and looked at the ground. He was making the whole thing extremely awkward and I hardly see why it needed to be. I let his gaze remain down for the time being and went on with my story. "I asked around a bit, 'anyone seen or heard about Tessa Tarn? Amelia Tarn? Melinda or Flynn Tarn?' 'oh yes!' they said 'heard about the Tarns we have! The mother tried to kill the three kids yah see! Unsuccessful in killin them with the pistol, she took her own life. Heard the kids ran away, changed their names.'…guess I gave up after that. It had already been over two years of me searching for them by that time…I was about to stop anyway…"

I looked up from my fingers that I had been watching fidget and saw Toby's eyes on me. When he saw me look up, he quickly let his gaze fall again.

"Toby! It's ok to look at me…" I smiled. He didn't look up, didn't seem to hear.

I hesitated slightly, "…do you want to feel it?" I offered…soon as I said it my mind was filled with thoughts of regret and that alarm went off again…_run run run._ But my heart pushed them away_. I can trust Toby_. It said._ I can trust him. I can trust him. _

His eyes finally darted up to meet mine and…then down at my stomach. He seemed to almost simply shake his head, but he stopped and looked at me in the eyes again.

And I sat up a little straighter and muttered, "Go ahead…"

He shyly reached out his hand…and I watched every movement of it, my heart pounding in my ears. Finally, his hand rested on the little lump that was…well you.

"Wait a moment…" I muttered, as I let all my feelings and warnings and fears go for a swift sweet moment and closed my eyes. I smiled as I felt you tumble around inside of me. "There? Feel him?"

I expected Toby to draw back his hand. To pull away and run out of the room in shame. To hide his face from me and let Mum bring the food for me for the next few days or weeks. But he stayed…and I could almost see a smile crack on his lips.

He was seemingly breathless when he muttered, "Yeah…"

"Sit next to me…" I muttered. Cause suddenly…Toby wasn't a stranger anymore. He wasn't someone who I couldn't trust. He was a friend now - practically a part of my small and false family that was me and Mum. He was the boy whose eyes I've seen light up at the site of me since I first came to the house. He's the one who's skipped free time he could be using to talk to other boys his age or read a book or just relax, to come and see me. He's the one who's made my heart skip a beat every time he steps in the room. He makes me blush, he makes me smile.

He swung around and sat next to me, not removing his hand. My hand almost subconsciously moved up to rest on you next to his. I opened my eyes to look into his as we both felt you move more under our fingertips. We both smiled and giggled when we realized how close our faces were to each other.

He knew better then to try anything that close to me…I didn't then but sitting back looking at it, I wish he would have.

All he did was nervously look around, lick his lips, and mutter to me, "You called it 'him',"

"Hm?" I asked, unable to remove my gaze from his chocolate eyes.

"You called your baby a boy…"

"Oh…" I mumbled back with an uncontrollable smile spreading across my face. I broke the eye contact to look down at you. "I guess I did…eh?"

I guess that was a big moment for the three of us. The moment that I first felt in my heart that maybe…Toby could be trusted…just maybe. It was a moment of pure bliss, something I don't think I've ever felt before.

Suddenly, I think that perhaps…just perhaps…everything's going to be alright for us.

My baby boy…I write these love letters now to you.

* * *

><p><strong>I promise the wait will not be so long this time!<strong>

**Review!**


	2. June 17th

**Sheila Chiaroscura - Oh yes! Glad to see you're still liking! And, I've said it before, but I do ever so love your quotes! **

**Jocelyn H. Loved from afar - Wowy! Thanks for favoriting me and the stories and thanks for the reviews too! Awesome!**

**Here you are then!**

* * *

><p><strong>June 27th<strong>

At first I went just for the music.

Or, at least, that's what I tell myself.

I was drawn to the open church doors because of the music that drifted out of the doors. The whole congregation singing songs that made them sound so happy and joyful. And that's all I really wanted…to be happy and joyful like I used to be with my Mum…but that had been taken away from me. They wouldn't let me in…but that didn't stop me from sitting on the steps, listening intently to the words of the songs. I can't recall any of them today, but I remember the elation of the songs…that much, I remember. So I sat on those steps, every Sunday, thirsty for the melodies. I'd sit alone, and teach myself.

I remember being on the steps one morning in late July a few years ago. A woman stepped out of the church, a crying baby in her arms. No, crying was an understatement - a _screeching _baby in her arms. I watched out of the corner of my eyes, standing besides the case of stars as the woman began to cry with her child. "I don' understand," I remember her saying. "All she does is cry. There must be something wrong…the midwife is stopping by later tonight…I'm afraid of what she might find out…"

I wasn't sure who was standing there with the woman, I mean, I wasn't about to stare, but he said, "Mrs. Smith, God has a plan for your baby,"

God has a plan for your baby.

I can't be sure if I ever believed in God, or do now. I've never been to a church service…well, legitimately, anyway. I've never had any serious teaching on the subject of God. But…_Somehow _I managed to live on the streets for over three years. I have to believe that someone was watching over me that whole time…or I would more then likely be dead by the time I found Mum's shop. And I have to believe that…even that night…perhaps I can somehow believe that someone was watching over me then too…cause then I can start to believe that you're not just a mistake - an unwanted present - a dream come too soon - I can believe you're a gift from God.

God has a plan for your baby.

Well…Mum has a plan for my baby.

And who am I to say that God can't work through Mum, of all people?

Well….going on…

This is what she's planned out and I've thought over and over again in the last two months I've spent in her dreadful bedroom. It seems as though perhaps it could…perhaps…work.

Let me start out by clearing some things up.

Mum managed to find me a very friendly midwife early on. I sometimes wonder if it's the one she had for her baby. But we've kindly asked the midwife to keep these things private and underground. She was very sympathetic about it. Said she understood and that I would always be referred to as "just another customer". She even agreed to come very early in the morning so that it's more likely no one will spot her. I think Mum might be slipping her a few extra pennies…but why complain?

Mum's plan is to make it look like the baby isn't ours.

You aren't ours…

Well…mine.

Make you seem as though you're not mine. There.

When you, poor little thing, are born, sometime in the next two and half months, Mum's going to quickly wrap you in a small woven basket, and play the part that she found you on her doorstep one morning. Quite a good plan, I suppose. Then, as I get my strength up I'll slowly emerge into the shop and the outside again, as if surfacing from an illness or something of that matter.

It might just be foolish enough to work…eh?

I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Mum says patients is one of the most important things a person can ever learn.

As of lately, Mum and I have been talking a lot about you…well we always have but…you're a lot harder to ignore now, I suppose. She was very excited when I told her I thought I was carrying a boy, and she started to go on about what I am going to name you. I was sitting in this cot and thinking about it one day…when I remembered him.

I'm not going to call _him _your father - I'm not going to call him anything that would in any way have any connection to either of us. If I could help it, I would never think of him, never mention him, and find a way to live in a state of mind where I was the only one who had any part in creating you. But when the sun goes down, and the room is pitch dark and silent, I can't help but think about him - his dark eyes…his superficial touch, his promise as he flipped the coins between his fingers…

And now, I'm downright terrified.

Cause I've been thinking so much about it, and even now it's making me teary eyed because I'm so bloody scared! What if you look like him? What if you act like him? What if every time I look at my baby boy, it just reminds me of him, in that dark room late at night…and what happened there.

It scared the life out of me and makes me wish again that you weren't there…it makes me wish you were a girl so you look like me or my Mum! I don't want you to look like him! I can't have that! I'm _already _going mad over the idea! They'll have to send me away from my baby because I can't bare to look at him.

So I pray - God…if you're really there…please make this baby mine and only mine…I know it's not possible, but I need it. I simply need it.

I'm sorry love…it must seem so much as though I don't love you and I would do anything to keep you from growing, the beautiful boy growing inside of me. But it's not true.

Mum and Toby…they counseled me away from thinking like that. But every night terror I wake up from seems to bring me back to square one.

The horrible night terrors of pulling back the little blanket from my miraculous baby's face and seeing _him_… god, it makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me scrawl these words in utter hatred. Bolded and pointed letters…

Why did this have to happen to me?

I'll never really understand, I don't think…

I ask myself…do I really believe that if God has a plan for my baby, that part of that plan could perhaps be you looking like him?

I can't say I do believe it.

* * *

><p><strong>Fun Fact! So...I told you a super long time ago that Love Letters to My Unborn Child was from a book of inspirational stories I read...and God has a Plan for Your Baby is too!<strong>

**Again, the book is Sories for a Teen's Heart book 1!**

**I should have another, longer chapter up for you really soon!**


	3. August 2nd

**August 2nd**

My heart is still racing, my fingers still shaking. It's morning now and I still feel this way!

I almost can't see straight, and I can't tell if all of this is from shock or…bewilderment…or shame or…love?

Can't be love though…I…I…hardly know what love even is…

Sorry…um…I feel partly guilty at this point. These "Love Letters" seemed to have become more about me then you and…well I guess I warned you at the beginning, eh? I apologies real quickly anyway…I have to tell you what has happened now.

I'm just…so content right now. Such a high feeling. Just lying here on the cot in the dim candlelight, writing to you with my left hand resting on your movements and this smile on my face that I can't seem to shake off.

Toby came into my room yesterday.

Not to deliver food or a book…just to keep me company. He's been doing this more and more often. And lately…hm…we've simply been lying on my cot together with our hands on you, day dreaming at the ceiling and talking about the future. It seems a foolish waste of time…but then again, what better do I have to do?

I've told Toby before how he should be out, cleaning the tables or helping make the pies. He just smiles and tells me that he's already finished.

I suspect he's lying to us.

I never thought I could ever trust a man again…but along came Toby and he…he wasn't just some boy. He was special…he is special.

So there we lay earlier last night, eyes on the ceiling and, only my fingers splayed on you at this point. Toby has told me a number of times that sometimes he doesn't feel proper lying next to me like that or rather…it feels rather awkward. I agreed. But told him you liked it…and he fell for it.

I said to Toby, my eyes tracing the crack in the ceiling, about as scenic as what I see gets, "I wish I could go outside tonight…"

And he simply muttered, "Me too…the stars are beautiful…"

My heart ached at his words. Stars…they had been my ceiling for so many nights. I longed for them now. The awning hung too far over my window for me to see them unless I bent far enough…and that wasn't exactly an easy task at this point.

"We could go…" he muttered. I was taken aback. Toby _never _did anything that was…well…in the least bit rebellious. He was such a sweet little thing. Wash the tables, feed the birds, help set out the pies, listen to Mrs. Lovett, visit Ella. It was all in his day, it was normal, it was expected, it was correct. But suggesting something like that? It just wasn't something I ever saw Toby going through with.

"You know Mum would be angry. I'm not allowed outside…it's too dangerous…" I wanted so badly to feel the wind on my cheeks…but I knew what was right was safe…

Toby quickly jumped off the cot, making it shake uneasily, and I struggled to prop myself up on my elbows to see what he was up too. Without asking or anything, he yanked the sheet off of my cot, bundled it in a wad, and handed it to me.

With that breathtaking smile of his, he handed it to me and whispered, "Wrap this around yourself so that it hides your stomach. If we move quiet enough, we can sneak around your mum in the parlor…"

I widened my eyes at his proposal. He really wanted this. I really wanted this. Stars, fresh air, the cold stone beneath my feet.

We both knew Mum was sleeping. Said she was never worried about us too being together and only desired to give us some privacy, so she read a book in the parlor for a half an hour or so…she often fell asleep though, leaving a clear path…

"You're serious about this?" I asked, struggling to keep my shocked voice down.

Toby nodded, smiled again, this time more of a smirk, and reached out his hand. "Not to worry, Ella. Nothings gonna harm you, not while I'm around,"

I smiled back as his beautiful voice carried me away. I hardly remember sneaking though the parlor, the shop, and out the door.

But I remember the first cool breeze running through my now long hair. I remember the cold stone street beneath my feet. I wiggled my toes just for the effect. I took in the smell of outside. It was London, not the most pleasant of all smells, but different from the floury, stuffy smell of the bedroom I had been confined to. I wanted to reach out both of my arms and spin around in the streets. But knowing myself, I probably would have tripped over the blanket hiding you…and that simply wouldn't of ended well. So I simply stood there, my eyes shut, taking it all in. I knew it would most likely be several more months before I got to see this again. By then, it would a lot chillier outside. It made me sad to know that I had missed just about the whole summer.

But here I was now, and I was gonna live in the moment if it killed me.

Don't tell Mum I said that now…

I had almost forgotten about Toby standing nearby.

He slowly had walked behind me and placed his hands over my still-closed eyes. The touch of his hands even seemed to make my heart leap. You must of known the joy I was feeling, it seemed to be your joy too, you tumbled and turned as if you knew that there was something very special about Toby.

I reached up my hands and placed them on his over my eyes. "Wot're yah doing? ?" I whispered with a giggle.

"Shhhh…when I uncover your eyes, look up straight away, yes?"

"Alright…" I muttered. I lowered my own hands and waited for whatever Toby had in mind to come to light.

Finally after a few long and precious moments, he drew back his hand and I looked up. Just in time to see a shooting star run across the stary night sky.

"Wow…" was all that seemed to come to mind.

The stars and the moon played on the sky, all in their perfect positions, lighting up, and shooting across. I wanted to lie down on the cold cobblestone and watch them all night. But I knew better then to not be prepared for anything this late on a London street. I remembered Toby's promise _nothings gonna harm you, not while I'm around. _

That promise managed to give me a peace of mind I've never known…

While we both gazed up at the stars and the planets and the rocks and meteors and whatever else lie out there for us, Toby slowly reached over and took my hand where it hung under the blanket.

I felt that jolt of energy again. I can't be positive how else to describe it. You must of felt it too again because you tumbled around even more. I think I can say you were as happy as me at this point. You and the butterflies flying through my veins and my mind racing so fast and everything…seemed so utterly overwhelming…but I liked the feeling.

Another falling star fell and I wished on it for both of us.

Toby must have wished on it too.

He turned toward me, and I somehow managed to take my eyes off the magnificent sky and look back at him.

His eyes sparkled in the moonlight. I felt my heart melt. That was it. This was where it's at. My whole body seemed to give anyway with the melting feeling and I felt weak at my knees.

Seems like I was just playing the little frail girl who needed help simply standing, but the light-headedness did make my knees buckle, which sent me stumbling back a few steps. I felt like a bloody fool until I realized that Toby had caught us from falling…and now he was holding me. He, perhaps subconsciously, placed a hand on my rounded stomach and muttered, "Here…sit down…"

He led me to the curb where he helped me get down to the little two inch drop from the sidewalk to the street. After giving me his helping hand, he sat down beside me.

I was suddenly aware of how close we were.

We both took another look up at the stars and the moon. And, as if we both had the same thought, we both looked down into each other's eyes at the same time.

His dingy brown hair, his beautiful brown eyes, his shinning smile, his cute little face…only inches from mine.

And in that moment…I wasn't thinking about anyone but him. I was aware of _you_, of course. But I wasn't thinking about Mum, and what she would think of all this. I wasn't thinking of the people who could be watching us from the shadows on the streets. I wasn't thinking about Mr. Todd brooding up in this window down at us. I wasn't thinking about what anyone would think if they saw me pregnant or the gossip that would go around. And I wasn't thinking about _him…_for one moment…one _swift, sweet, glorious _moment, it was just Toby and me.

And next thing I knew, his lips were on mine.

It wasn't planned, or thought out, it was just done.

I can't even begin to describe it…I wouldn't do it proper justice.

Our eyes closed. His hands, one sliding around my back, the other resting on you. My hands, my left finding his on you and resting on top, and my right entangled in his dingy brown hair, pushing us closer together, closing the embrace.

My heart still stops when I think about it. What an utterly blissful moment.

When we pulled away from each other…we both had that shame on our features. Neither of us could tell why we did anymore…but we did.

Neither of us said anything more as we let our arms where they were and gazed up more at the shooting stars that night.

I was on a high…and I was growing so tiered. As if the small walk outside had exhausted me.

Or maybe it was the mere notion of kissing Toby that did so.

I barely remember coming back inside, sneaking back past Mum, saying goodnight to Toby, and crawling into bed.

I take that back…I do remember a few things. I remember wanting to kiss him again outside that bedroom door.

And I remember as he walked me back into my room, asking Toby if I could name my baby after him.

He said he'd be privileged to have an amazing child like mine be named off of a dingy little orphan like him.

I told him that he was more than a dingy orphan to me and you. And his cheeks turned pink in the candle light.

I remember wanting to kiss him again, one last time before I drifted asleep last night, in that wonderful, heart-stopping, blissful state.

* * *

><p><strong>There you are then! Only 2 more chapters!<strong>


	4. August 23

**Jeese it's been too long! My excuse if you will except one is that I was in a play for the last couple months and it's been eating up my life!**

**To my two reviewers! -**

**Shelia Chiaroscura – Glad you liked the description! Being outside and watching the stars is one of my favorite things to do, but I'll agree, it's way too cold right now!**

**and**

**Jocelyn H. Loved From Afar – Yeah, I never thought the story would go here, but once it started rolling, I just couldn't stop it! A story is a living thing after all.**

**Here we go! Only two more chapters!**

* * *

><p><strong>August 23rd<strong>

**8:30 PM**

Well here I sit now…I'm so bloody confused and scared I can't all together think about it…I can't make sense of it.

I haven't been feeling well. Ever since I woke up, I've been feeling just…awful…and I keep getting these sharp, sudden pains. And I'm frightened…I think they're contractions…and I'm _locked _in this bedroom…

Mum had come in earlier. I thought she might be bringing in dinner, but her hands were empty and she looked…flustered. And that's a friendly word to describe it. Her hair seemed messy…well, messier than usual, her face was pale…well, paler than usual. And her body showed off defense and worry and an overall stiffness.

"Is Toby in here?" she asked as she burst in through the door.

I looked up from where I laid down on the bed, reading a book.

"No…" I said slowly and softly, already becoming confused. "Is he going to be bringing me super?"

She ignored my question.

"Great…" she rushed over hurriedly to her wardrobe, cursing under her breath. I heard her mutter as she pulled out a pair of new boots and sat on the bed to exchange them with the other ones, (I remember them being wet…for whatever reason…) "He's not in the kitchen, he's not in the bake house…we don' have time to be bloody worrying about him now…"

"Toby?" I started to wonder, furrowing my brow and struggling to sit up. "Mum, wot's going on?" I somehow managed to stand out of bed and wobble over to where Mum was lacing her boots. She didn't say anything to me standing over her, she didn't even look up.

She started to hastily run back out of the room, but stopped for a moment and turned to me when I shouted, "Mum? Talk to me! !"

She looked at me as if I was something foreign, her eyes big and worried. I could almost hear her heart beating so fast in her chest. I could almost see a tear on her cheek.

"It's nothing love…really…"

She proceeded to run to the other side of the bedroom to grab something off of a dressier when suddenly I was hit with pain again. I doubled over on the bed, but she didn't seem to even notice.

"Mum?" I muttered through clenched teeth. "I think…I think the baby's coming…" my voice was nothing but a whisperer. I hated to add something else to her already seemingly full plate.

"Nonsense…" she muttered, not even looking up at me. "Probably just another false labor, love. Just ignore it…it'll go away…" finally she found whatever it was she was looking for and began to run out the door again.

Regaining my strength and posture again, I stood up and came up behind her as she tuned the knob to the door. "I really think so…" I muttered…wasn't that another…motherly instinct thing?

But she ignored me."Ella…" she sighed and took me by the shoulders. "Everything's gonna be alright, eh? Mr. T and I are going to sort all of this out and everything will be alright…after it's all done we'll happily move down to the sea side, eh? You, me, Mr. T and your baby will have a perfect life again, sound good?"

I didn't have a chance to ask why Toby wasn't in that last sentence before she hugged my very pregnant self and ran out of the door, closing it and locking it behind her with the key she had found.

I'm frightened…

* * *

><p><strong>10:30<strong>

I've heard screams.

Footsteps above my head…more than one pair. Why would Mr. Todd have a customer this late? And more than one?

I heard some faint words…just faint…cause right now I seem to be floating a little in and out of sleep…I'm so tiered…but the pain is keeping me up.

Screams from above my head…

What is all this about? I've ran to the door and pounded on it and screamed but no one has come. The contractions are becoming closer and closer together…it's time and there's no one here to help me, to fetch my midwife…or…

I'm sorry…each one makes me lose my complete train of thought…I hate this. Where's Mum? Where's Toby? I can't hardly scream anymore or write… I've been pacing the room because it's all I seem I can do but…

God…I hate this. It hurts so bloody much.

I'm ruined now…I'm done for…this is it.

I can't do this by myself.

My malnourished body can't take it…I…I…can't think straight…I want…I just want my Mum…


	5. June 25th 1847

**Chapter 5**

**June 25th 1847**

I'm glad to finally be writing again.

That night is a blur of slipping in and out of consciousness, of tears, and labor pangs, and screams fading in the background.

I remember only a few things, because at one point, I think I must have fainted on the bed. Mum hadn't brought me dinner or any water…it simply wasn't good for me and you.

I remember waking up to Toby. He was leaning over me, his eyes dark and his brows pulled together. He didn't look worried as his blurry face came into focus…he looked…angry.

"Thank God you're alright…" he muttered. But his voice didn't hold relief…it was stiff and low.

I felt another shooting pain…great…I thought I could maybe think it was all a dream.

"Thank…God…_you're_…alright…" I sputtered out…I don't think he quite understood what I meant before I was sent screaming by another pain. "You've got to fetch my midwife…the baby's coming…" I whispered quickly, just wanting to get the words out to him.

"No time…" he muttered as he took his eyes off of me and walked to the other side of the room in search for something.

I didn't have any time to mutter out another question. I was out of breath. I didn't want to talk anymore.

"They'll come looking for that judge man soon…we have to leave…"

I narrowed my eyes but didn't ask any questions…all of this could be resolved when this was all over with. I was worried about leaving, I wondered if I could even get out of bed.

There were just so many things that were making me uncomfortable and simply…miserable. I was thirsty and hungry, but I was unable to communicate to Toby that I was. I didn't think I could make it out the door, but Toby found what he was looking for and grabbed my wrist before I could protest.

I walked slowly, despite Toby struggling to drag me fast out of the home and through the shop. I had to pause every few minutes and lean against Toby as the pain shot through me…poor Toby. He didn't seem to care…he didn't seem to even notice. His strangely dark eyes were always just glued on the door exiting to the next room.

When we finally made it outside, for the strangest and most convenient reason, there was a coach right in front of the shop. Toby led me in, neither of us seeming to care very much that the coach wasn't called for us. I think I might have seen Toby slip the driver a few extra pennies to keep him quiet.

It was only a few blocks before the coach pulled over to wonder what all the screaming in the back was about…me.

I vaguely remember the coach driver sputtering something about his friend's wife being a midwife, and Toby paying him extra again to rush us to where his mate worked.

Unfortunately, it was a pub.

Fortunately, his mate's wife did happen to be there.

We didn't have a nice comfy bed to lie down on. We didn't have any of the fancy herbs and medicines to make things easier. We didn't have a nice clean room and a wonderful cradle to watch you sleep in after you were born. But we had Toby, some water, some blankets, and a midwife, and that was all we truly needed.

I don't remember much else…I remember briefly someone screaming at Toby to leave the room, but I was clutching and digging my fingernails into his hand so hard he couldn't leave if he wanted to.

I remember more pain…

…and then I remember the sweet sound of a baby crying.

And this…euphoric feeling.

They had to take you away from the room to…check you all up and such, I suppose. And for that brief moment I was scared out of my mind because…I immediately thought of Mum's baby…and how after she left that room, she never came back in.

Toby reassured my mystery tears by wiping them away and then kissing me lightly on the forehead…

"Good job…" he whispered in my ear.

I took a deep breath in and told myself to relax. As I was lying there with my eyes closed, Toby's hands in my own and just about falling asleep, I heard the door to the back storage room we had been stuffed into creak.

My eyes shot open as my heart leaped and shook my pulse off balance.

In walked the midwife.

With a tiny little body in her arms. You were wrapped in nothing but a bar towel and it still makes me laugh to think about it. I only wish we had something more proper for you.

"Congratulations…?"

"Ella…" Toby filled in for me, knowing that I was simply at a loss for words

"It's a girl…" she whispered to me as she handed you into my arms.

"A girl…" I sighed. What a…relief…almost. It didn't stop the chances, but it seemed to keep them from manifesting…at least a little less likely of you looking like him? Right? Forget motherly instinct, this was enough.

And I held you for the first time.

My breath was taken away…I don't know how else to describe it. Everything around me suddenly faded, the cold ground I was sitting on, the hard and itchy blankets, the bar towel you were wrapped in…and it all amounted to you, lying in my arms, staring up at me with your big blue green eyes.

Gorgeous.

This is how Mum said she felt when she held _me_ for the first time. The uncontrollable smile, the pure sweet bliss, to the point where you can't hear anything but your heart beating and you can't feel anything but the weight of your baby under your arms.

Magnificent.

This is how Mum felt about me…no wonder she couldn't give me up…perhaps I can't fully blame her anymore…

Curiosity suddenly washed over me, overwhelming and unexpected.

I felt tears roll down my cheeks as I kept my eyes on you but muttered to Toby…

"What happened to my Mum?"

It was just us three in the room at that point. The midwife said she'd leave us alone for a moment together, I suppose. My question hung in the air and slowly fell to the ground in the space Toby left open.

I was terrified for the answer, even though I seemed to have already known it. I had heard two loud screams from below…

…first scream…footsteps down the flight, I could hear the creak of the large bake-house door. If I listened intently enough, I could hear voices floating through the bake-house, harmonizing with each other. One of them Mum, one of them, perhaps Mr. Todd.

…second scream…I felt the foundation shake at it…then utter silence. I remember running to the door and pounding on it and screaming for my mum, as if I already knew that the screams were hers.

Toby finally opened his mouth and took a breath. Letting the words out with a sigh in a whisper, "He killed her…"

So I had guessed.

My heart sank and tears fell down my cheeks.

I didn't bother, at that point, to ask about Mr. Todd. Toby would tell me the whole story later.

We both agreed he got what he wanted.

It seems I didn't get to do any proper mourning for my mother until later, when the feeling of being so high had worn off.

A few minutes later, the midwife knocked and came back in the door. I remember her asking how everything was. My lack of an answer was being the only answer she needed to know that everything was perfect.

A few more moments past with just me and Toby staring at you before the midwife broke our trance with, "Wot're going to name her?"

I hadn't thought about it.

Of course I hadn't thought about it, you were supposed to be a boy all these months! I thought briefly of changing the "Toby" we planned for you and changing to something more fit for a girl like "Tobette" or something foolish of that nature.

I looked at Toby for the solution to our problem. And he looked down at you with your big eyes and your…growing-darker hair. Your face was round with small chubby cheeks and simple…perfection. Your eyes fluttered lightly and you started to drift to sleep.

"Eleanor…" Toby whispered.

And I nodded.

"Eleanor Amelia Lovett,"

"It's beautiful," came the midwife's voice.

"It is? Isn't it?" I muttered back.

And for the past few months, this is where we've been staying.

Mum seemed to have left the sea side cottage just the way I remember it.

We settled in just fine, spoke to the landlords, who said that money was coming in like it regularly did. They never even had a notion that no one was living in the home. I figured Mum was always planning for us to come back here someday. She loved it so here…

And I've open up the shop next door again. A little music school, something that the small village doesn't have. Small children are invited every day and I teach them all my Mum taught me about music and singing. It wasn't a lot, but it manages to make the kids and their parents happy all the same. I named the shop, "Mrs. Lovett's Music Notes". I like to think I named the shop after my mum, even though I _am _a legitimate Mrs. Lovett now also. Well, Mrs. Ragg, but Toby was quite content with letting me keep my last name that in truth…never really was mine. I know it's unusual and sometimes even frowned upon, but I feel like it's time to finally claim myself as a Lovett. And that is _your _name, after all.

I miss my mum very much, but I'm grateful for every moment we had with each other…every single stolen year. I miss her so, but somehow I manage to see her in the lot of you. It's been a long time since I've been this happy. By some means, I've managed to take my eighteen year old life, and make it into something beautiful, just like Mum always wanted for her daughter.

And just like I always pray for you to be someday.

Eleanor Amelia Lovett.

Nellie…I love you so much.

* * *

><p>And that's finally it!<p>

All together - 155 reviews, five parts, 34 chapters, and...a lot of words...THANKS FOR BEING AMAZING! !

If anyone is still there, just to let you know, I haven't given up on Sweeney Todd fanfiction!

I have a whole new story to post and personlly, it's my favorite I've ever written! Be looking out for a rewrite of "Mr. Todd do you believe in ghosts?"

Goodbye my wonderful readers!


End file.
